


love reads like a bad biography

by primchaitea



Category: Smash (TV)
Genre: 4000 words of pining and a rare semblance of a plot, Growing Up Together, M/M, Pining, boy falls in love and love fucking sux, friends to nothing, it took me ten years to manually type in the html code for italics and this is a dead fandom, slight angst, sorry ive never written anything where kyle ends up happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 13:22:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14895387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primchaitea/pseuds/primchaitea
Summary: When he was young and foolish, things were different. Lines were blurred.In certain moments, Jimmy laughed, eyes crinkling and the stupid haircut that he’d had when they were fifteen falling into his face, and Kyle forgot how to breathe, forgot how to be a best friend and just that.In which Kyle pines fruitlessly and has too many emotions, probably.





	love reads like a bad biography

_All I ever want is there in your eyes._  
When he was young and foolish, things were different. Lines were blurred.  
In certain moments, Jimmy laughed, eyes crinkling and the stupid haircut that he’d had when they were fifteen falling into his face, and Kyle forgot how to breathe, forgot how to be a best friend and just that.  
All he could do then was watch helplessly as a little more of his platonic friendship (and sanity) was thrown into a pit of pining he hadn’t even noticed he’d fallen into.  
If Kyle was a poet, perhaps he would write about the blueness of Jimmy’s eyes or the softness of his smile, but he was not. So instead he just looked at him achingly and thought desperately, rashly, _I’d give you the sun if you asked._

~~  
They were sixteen, going on seventeen. Easily swayed, easily broken in their fragile youth.  
Kyle was convinced Jimmy’s whole “brooding” thing was an act. With his leather jacket and Tragic Backstory, Jimmy was pretty much the epitome of teenage angst.  
_Though it works for him,_ Kyle thought. _Anybody else would look like a knock-off James Dean._ He chuckled quietly at the idea of Jimmy in a cowboy hat because, to be honest, it did sort of fit him. He made a mental note to mention it to him.  
The two of them rode the bus to school that day because Jimmy had said Adam was, “too fucking drunk to function or something” to drive them. There were a lot of “or something”s with Jimmy’s brother, but Kyle tried to disregard them the best he could. Something else to add to his rebel vibe at least, Kyle thought, if not a little disapprovingly.  
It was the rainy, peaceful sort of day, the kind where the earth smells rich and never-fading and the sky hangs heavily. The kind that’s optimistic and where things are better. At least, Kyle hoped so. He turned to Jimmy, his eyes a little brighter than usual.  
“So do you think we can study tonight?” Kyle asked. “I heard Lammermeier’s test is a bitch.”  
Jimmy turned his head lazily and groaned. “Ugh, I forgot about that. No, my girlfriend’s coming over, remember? Y’know, we might get some studying done, if you know what I mean.” He winked.  
Kyle bristled. Whenever Jimmy mentioned his latest girlfriend, something stung quietly, like a very sharp needle prick. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but he knew he didn’t want Jimmy fooling around with some girl irresponsibly. Obviously, it was overprotectiveness, the kind borne out of years of cleaning up after Jimmy’s messes. Obviously.  
“Oh. Okay, have fun, I guess,” Kyle said, and he could hear the bitterness in his voice, but he felt fairly self-righteous at that moment. Why stop himself?  
At that, Jimmy looked at least a little apologetic and bore an uncomfortably close resemblance to a kicked puppy. This boy was going to be the death of him, honestly.  
Kyle sighed. “Just be responsible.”  
Jimmy rolled his eyes and grinned widely. “Sure, Mom.”  
“Uh huh.”  
Absently, Kyle wondered to himself whether having a best friend was supposed to be like this. At times, his own feelings and thoughts left him bewildered. They were unhealthily codependent, mostly on Jimmy’s part (though Kyle would never admit it, so was he) and both were loners, to a degree. Jimmy was charismatic and standoffish, intimidating most prospective friends. And Kyle? He kept quiet most of the time, probably seemed shy, and his oversized sweaters and dark hair helped him blend into a crowd- the epitome of a wallflower.  
He’d never tell Jimmy, but he was constantly seized by fear at the idea that Jimmy would be able to find an easy replacement for him. Maybe that was why he didn’t like seeing Jimmy with a girl.  
An intrusive little voice in the back of his mind whispered, _You don’t like seeing him with anyone that isn’t you._ Kyle shook his head quickly, trying to clear away the bad thoughts and nearly banged his head on the window in the process. Whoops.  
Jimmy looked at him, eyebrows creased in concern. “Hey, you okay?  
“Have you ever worn a cowboy hat before?” Kyle blurted out.  
Jimmy made a face. “Yeah, actually. Very non sequitur.”  
“Dude. Tell me more now.”  
And for a while, (almost) all was well.  
~~  
Kyle was twenty-two now, and hopefully a little wiser. He hadn’t gone to college to stay a fool, after all. Cringing, he remembered his high school days when he wore his heart on his sleeve, naive and idealistic.  
The subway was fairly empty today, except for him and Jimmy, so rather than trying to stave off the din by gazing past his reflection in the greasy windows and turning up his music, he turned to Jimmy with a grin.  
Jimmy hadn’t exactly woken up yet. After all, seven am Saturdays weren’t really prime work days for anyone.  
Squinting groggily at Kyle, he mumbled, “What’re you so happy about this early?”  
Kyle smirked. “Oh, you know. Just reminiscing about the good ol’ days.”  
“I don’t remember having any of those.”  
“I remember you wearing three pounds of hair gel every day; that’s good enough for me.”  
At this, Jimmy groaned, waving Kyle away. “Fuck off. You ain’t any better, Mr. ‘My Chemical Romance.’”  
“Ugh, that. I had feelings and shit in high school. Not anymore.”  
Jimmy snorted loudly and some old lady four seats away gave them a disapproving look. Ah, well. They weren’t exactly adored by the general public anyway. Jimmy leaned his head on the window with a thunk and faced Kyle, an eyebrow raised incredulously.  
“You? What, you’re stone-cold or whatever now? Must not be working because I can still tell exactly what you’re thinkin’. Always could.”  
A little lump of nervousness balled up in his throat, and he jiggled his leg to try and work it away. Damn. After all these years, maybe it hadn’t gone away.  
Kyle realized the silence was nearing awkwardness, so he cleared his throat, forcing levity again. “You’ve just known me for too long.”  
Jimmy, who looked ready to drowse off again at any moment, flashed him a sleepy grin. “Nah, it’s obvious. You’re an open book, Ky. Some things just don’t change.”  
His eyes fluttered shut, and Kyle wasn’t quite sure what had just happened. It ached, but he sat quietly on that dingy subway for the rest of the ride, losing himself in implications and questions.  
Today was tired, sluggish, the kind of slow that makes you believe in eternities, if only to torture you in the moment. Kyle was actually getting sort of nostalgic after an eight hour work day, and he was, of course, thinking about Jimmy. They had known each other for almost ten years; their lives intertwined in ways that were unimaginable apart. In middle school, they’d been inseparable, and Kyle remembered the countless days Jimmy left school with bruised knuckles and a grateful best friend.  
He surmised that the debt had been more than repaid, what with the drugs and the girls and the fights. All the times that Jimmy had screwed him over and left him worried, exhausted, and sometimes just leaving him.  
Kyle broke out of his reverie and glanced at the clock. Nearly closing time. Jimmy’s going to want to leave soon anyway, he thought disparagingly.  
As he wiped down the counter, being sure to scrub away the sticky patches, he noticed a tired looking woman who was taking minuscule sips out of her shot glass. Jimmy was talking to her, and both were looking increasingly aggravated. Jesus, what was it now? They couldn’t kick someone out right before they closed.  
Thankfully, he heard Jimmy throw out a callous, “I’m good, thanks.” and stride away. Crisis hopefully averted. The woman turned to him, and Kyle noticed that despite the fatigue on her face she was beautiful, all cheekbones and smile lines.  
_I’m glad they weren’t flirting,_ he thought absently. Shaking himself mentally, he realized that she was talking to him.  
A note of annoyance in her voice, she asked, “Is he always like that?”  
Kyle smiled a little as he put the rags away, and he caught a glimpse of Jimmy as he turned the corner. “Yeah, kinda.”  
There was a beat of silence, and she started to gather up her things. Suddenly he was hit by a jolt of recognition- something about her was strangely familiar.  
“Hey, don’t I know you?”  
“No, I doubt it.”  
Grinning, Kyle blurted out her name before he could stop himself. “Karen Cartwright. I saw you in ‘Bombshell,’ you were incredible. I was, uh, so sorry to read about what happened.”  
Karen gave a reluctant nod back. “Yeah, me too. Thanks.” She started to get up again, and Kyle was a little starstruck, his mouth out of control.  
“Oh, hey, will you do me a favor?” Digging through messy boxes in the cabinet, he dragged one out and searched until he found a large envelope, stuffed full.  
Dumping it on the counter, he held the playbill up excitedly and asked, “Can you sign this for me?” Karen huffed out a nervous laugh, and he took it as a cue to continue.  
“I know, it’s really corny, but I have this collection of programs from failed musicals -” Oh god. His stupid mouth.  
Kyle tried to cover it up the best he could; his ramble-mode was turned on and he could hear himself getting quicker with every word. “Oh, damn, I’m so sorry. I have this thing, I just start talking before I realize that I’m talking, and-”  
“It’s okay,” Karen said, interrupting him with a quiet laugh. Right then, Kyle decided he liked Karen Cartwright. Bless her and her forgiveness of his dumbass mouth.  
“Ky, we gotta get goin’!” Jimmy’s voice rang out from the back room, breaking the awkwardness. Kyle sighed. It was getting late anyway. He scooped the programs back into the mustard-yellow envelope, hoping the traffic wouldn’t be too bad tonight.  
Karen looked slightly confused, her mouth opening in surprise. “Oh, are you two- are you guys, like-” She waved the Sharpie around as if it would help her articulate exactly what Kyle and Jimmy _were_.  
Kyle burst out laughing, because isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when people presume that you and your childhood best friend are together?  
“Us? No, God, no!” He laughed again, loudly. “I mean he’s not...” Kyle trailed off. What exactly wasn’t he again?  
Karen, looking slightly unconvinced, kept signing his program. He watched her for a moment, then leaned in conspiratorially.  
“But…does it look like we are?” After all, he could hope, right? That was probably allowed. She laughed her soft laugh again and touched his clasped hands. “You have a good night.” Why did she look like she knew something he didn’t? The mind boggling-ness of it all made him chuckle quietly to himself. Maybe one day he’d know. One day.  
\--  
_There’s fine, fine line between love and a waste of time._  
He loved her, and that was okay. Kyle saw the stolen smiles and how their hands brushed together gently. He’d known Jimmy for long enough to know what love looked like on his face, on the lines of his body.  
He knew Jimmy had never looked at him the way he looked at Karen.  
And, he reminded himself, tossing back the next swig of beer with unprecedented fervor, _That’s absolutely fine. Fine._  
Like the devil himself, Jimmy appeared in the doorway, looking rumpled and pissed. Kyle could tell that he hadn’t noticed him at first, but after a moment Jimmy’s face scrunched up.  
“Whaddya doin’ moping? It’s late.”  
“I could ask you the same thing. Why’d you just get home?”  
Jimmy smirked dangerously, and Kyle winced internally. Nothing good could come of this. At this point, he was just hoping it wasn’t cocaine. Again.  
“Actually, do I want to know?”  
“Nah, probably not.”  
Kyle rolled his eyes, but maybe just this once he’d allow it. Jimmy flopped beside him on their tiny, stupidly beige couch and grabbed a beer. They sat in an amicable silence that neither of them wanted to break, pressed side by side under the dusty dim lights.  
Listen, Kyle chastised himself, if you’re going to be a good friend you have to support him. Even if he’s dating a pretty girl that you can’t even hate.  
He cleared his throat and asked, “So how are things with you and Karen?” _She’s all you speak of lately, but I’ll ask anyway,_ he thought.  
Jimmy’s eyes lit up and Kyle hated himself for the lightning-quick flash of jealousy that stabbed through his chest.  
“God, Ky, she’s so beautiful. Sometimes when I see her I stop blinking, I can’t breathe, my voice just dies. Isn’t that crazy?”  
Kyle jumped at an opportunity to settle back into their normal banter. “Finally, someone who can shut you up. It really is a miracle. The wonders of love.”  
“Yeah. Love’s crazy, huh,” Looking down, Jimmy smiled, his expression softening. God, he’d set him off again. Jimmy Collins was an unabashedly lovesick fool- though Kyle wasn’t really one to talk.  
“I really wanna tell her that I love her, but I think it’s too soon.” Karen must be even more oblivious than Jimmy. Those two must be made for each other if she couldn’t recognize the patented Dopey Collins eyes.  
Kyle grinned a little and said, “You need a neon sign.” _Trust me, I can tell,_ he thought.  
Jimmy turned his head and smirked, his teeth barely visible, a white gleam in the quiet darkness of their apartment. Was it normal to love someone so much it felt like your chest was cracking? How do you hold a love inside of you for nine years and not say a word?  
Jimmy yawned widely and said, “Alright, I’m gonna hit the sack. Night, Ky.”  
“I--” The words died on his lips. _I wanna know what it would be like if I had you._  
Midway through slouching off the couch, Jimmy paused. “You what?”  
_I love you. I wish you knew. When you come around, oh my God, I'm a mess._  
“I’m tired too. Night, Jimmy.”  
(He slept fitfully that night, his dreams in black and white. In the morning, he forgot that he had dreamed at all.)  
The next day, Kyle was so exhausted he could literally feel the bags under his eyes dragging his face downward. He wasn’t sure exactly what brought it on. Was extreme emotional exhaustion a thing? Jimmy was right, there was no escaping his feelings- they were inevitable. He could tell the others were getting tired of watching him start a sentence and cut himself off midway to yawn widely- but it wasn’t like he could control it.  
“So my next idea for this scene was gonna be to just-” Kyle tried to stifle another oncoming yawn by ducking into the sleeve of his sweater, but to no avail. Trying to direct a crew of other detached twenty-somethings was even more exhausting than usual, God.  
“Sorry guys, anyway what I was about to say was-”  
Jimmy, looking bored, finally got up and walked over to stand behind Karen, whispering something to make her giggle into her hand.  
Kyle faltered, suddenly feeling heat flush in his face. He couldn’t believe this was what he was reduced to. A blushing schoolgirl? He was an adult, for fuck’s sake. _Get it together,_ he thought furiously.  
He stood near the lip of the stage, trying to regain his composure, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Ana striding toward him, boots clacking. Her eyes were narrowed, and despite the fact that Kyle had a good three inches or so on her, he had a gut feeling he was going to be cornered and interrogated.  
Ana grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him backstage, Kyle’s hands going up into a reflexive “I didn’t do it” stance. His stomach tied up into knots; Ana was looking at him like she expected him to say something, even though she was the one who dragged him back here in the first place. He ended up giving her a weak grin that felt more like a grimace. Fuck.  
She pursed her lips and sighed. “Okay. You need to spill about Jimmy.”  
“What are you talking about? What’s that supposed to mean? Spill?”  
Ana gave him another look, like he was supremely stupid. “Kyle, none of us are blind. It’s pretty damn obvious you’re head over heels for him. You look at him like, I don’t know, like he’s not Jimmy. You get all starry-eyed and smiley. It’s kind of sad, actually.”  
“Gee, thanks.” Kyle rolled his eyes, but his mind was reeling. Maybe it was pretty obvious, but everyone? Did that include Jimmy? Jesus, that’s pretty goddamn embarrassing. Well, cat’s out of the bag anyway.  
“Okay, so fine. I had a thing for him when we were kids, but not anymore.”  
“Did you not hear what I said? Starry-eyed. Lovey-dovey. Etcetera. “  
“Oh my god. Ana.” Kyle buried his face in his hands.  
She scrunched up her nose and repeated mockingly, “Oh my god. Kyle.”  
There was silence for a moment, and then Ana tilted her head, her face softening unexpectedly, bangs falling into her eyes. “Kyle, I really think you’re in love with him. You can’t just hold your breath forever, mkay? You have to do something eventually.”  
Kyle hoped to God that the “something” would be getting over it. Love was so goddamn debilitating. He scrubbed his face with his hands and sighed, “Yeah, I guess. Thanks. Or something.”  
Ana blew him a kiss, already walking back to the stage. “You’re welcome!” The door creaked closed, and he stood alone in the musty, mothball-scented corner backstage. He sighed again- today seemed to be particularly full of those- and pushed the door open after her.  
Kyle jogged down the steps on the side of the stage, finding a secluded little cranny he could curl into to “check his phone.” He leaned into the dip where the two walls met and pillowed his head into his shoulder, glad for once that he hadn’t grown into any of his sweaters.  
Through the gaps of the folded seats in the audience, the bustle of the cast and crew, he could still make out Jimmy and Karen, close enough together that from this distance their individual bodies were hard to distinguish.  
And, God, Jimmy looked so happy. His eyes had this light to them that Kyle hadn’t seen in forever, not since they were kids and he was beaming so brightly it hurt a little to watch. He loved her so much, and if Kyle was really in love with Jimmy he’d let him be happy. So yeah, Jimmy might be an asshole jerkface who was probably constantly on the verge of OD’ing, but he deserved to be happy.  
He deserved to be happy, and Kyle wouldn’t (couldn’t) take that away from him. Especially if happiness came in the form of soft-spoken, gorgeous, Karen Cartwright, who also deserved the world. Underneath the faded, yellowing lights of an old theater, Kyle came to a resolution.  
He loved this boy with everything he had- he’d give him the sun, the stars, the moon. But he was only Kyle Bishop, so all he could give him was his love. And if that love came at the cost of his own happiness, then so be it.  
Kyle closed his eyes tightly and blew out some air. God, when did he get so melodramatic? At least he made the right choice going into theater. From across the room, Ana made eye contact with him, a silent Are you okay? Kyle gave her a lopsided shrug. He didn’t really know, to be honest.  
Yawning morosely, he resumed his post on the floor of leaning against the wall and being dramatic. Whatever. At some point in this shit-show, he was entitled to a little moping because no one needed this many feelings in the first place. He scrolled on his phone aimlessly, hopefully looking busy enough that no one would bother him.  
“Hey, Ky. You look all weepy and shit, what’s wrong?” Fuck. _At the worst possible moment he arrives, like a harbinger of doom,_ Kyle thought. _Or something._  
Jimmy sat down and scooted right next to Kyle, nudging his shoulder. “Seriously, what’s goin’ on with you?  
He shrugged again noncommittally and tried to discreetly wipe his eyes with the heel of his hand. Damn, he hoped he wasn’t crying.  
Jimmy leaned in a little closer, eyes wide, and gently wiped away a tear Kyle hadn’t even noticed had made its way halfway down his cheek. Shit. Fuck.  
“I don’t know. I really don’t, okay? Could you just-”  
Jimmy’s eyes were even wider now, almost comically circular. “Kyle, just tell me what’s wrong! I ain’t gonna be able to help if-”  
Kyle closed the small gap between them and kissed him, effectively cutting off what he was about to say.  
Jimmy looked shell-shocked at first, his hands hovering by Kyle’s head. Jimmy shut his eyes and for a second Kyle thinks, Maybe. It lasted for less than an instant. Jimmy pulled back quickly, blinking. His lips burned.  
Jimmy scooted back and stood up, holding his hands in front of him as if in self-defense. As if the thought of being near him was unthinkable. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.  
In a final, desperate move, Kyle whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. We can just forget about it if you want. Really.”  
Jimmy nodded slowly, still backing up. “Yeah. Okay. I’m gonna go now, Ky. I’ll see you.”  
How did he mess it up so badly already? Half an hour ago he’d had a solid resignation to stay in his role as a pining best friend, and now it was pretty likely he wouldn’t have a best friend at all. God, this morning felt a month ago.  
_Deep breaths. Okay._ Kyle took a shuddering, heaving breath in, and absently he noticed that he was still crying, only a lot harder now. He shook his head quickly, but his mind kept racing and racing, until he couldn’t take it anymore. He burst out the back door, running down the busy sidewalks of New York. The upside of a busy city was that no one would look at him; he could fade away and everything would feel less sharp. Less like the city had been cranked up to the highest level of exposure, a warped oversaturated Technicolor. He ran as far away as his feet would take him from the staring eyes of the theater, of the lights, of Jimmy and just tried to remember how to breathe again.  
Eventually he stopped, heels skidding and chest heaving in front of their apartment. Of all the places. Kyle hadn’t even meant to come here and of course Jimmy would find him here. He didn’t really know how to feel about that- a moment ago he was terrified, the anxiety practically choking him, but now? All he could feel was cold numbness. Kyle was definitely going through the five stages of grief at hyperspeed.  
He didn’t really have any options. Looking up at the sky right now, it was probably going to rain, which figured, so he wouldn’t be able to go anywhere. Ah, well.  
Kyle unlocked the door and made a beeline for his bed, relishing the familiar warmth after such a fucked up day. He put in his earbuds and turned up the music as loud as he could even though there was no one else in the apartment. Closing his eyes tightly, he willed himself to forget what had happened and just focused on the music and the soft thrumming of the rain outside. Les Miserables. Chicago. Spring Awakening. Sweeney Todd. Just breathe, Kyle. Eventually, he dozed off, exhausted and emotionally spent.  
He woke up to a tapping on his shoulder, blearily pulling out the earbud that hadn’t fallen loose during his impromptu nap.  
“Hm,” he mumbled. Who the hell?  
It was Jimmy again, shuffling from foot to foot awkwardly next to his bed. “Uh… Hey.”  
Kyle groaned, rubbing his eyes. “Jimmy, you are the last person I wanna see right now. Can you just get the fuck out of here?” The bite in his voice surprised him, so did the inexplicable anger at seeing Jimmy standing there in his room and looking apologetic.  
Jimmy’s hackles rose a little bit, and it gave Kyle a sick feeling in his stomach knowing that he was pressing all of his buttons.  
Strangely, miraculously, Jimmy didn’t go storming out of the room the way he normally would. Instead, he sat down on the edge of the bed, a little fear in his eyes, and said, “Listen. I’m sorry that I’m not- that I can’t-” He broke off, but looked at Kyle pleadingly as if willing him to understand.  
And he did understand. But oh, God how he wished he didn’t.  
Jimmy bit his lip, and continued, “But we’re best friends, Ky. We always have been. This…. Doesn’t have to change anything, just like you said. It’s still us against the world.”  
Kyle nodded, slowly. What would they be without each other? “Yeah. Best friends.”  
Jimmy’s eyes brightened a little, and he carefully placed an arm around Kyle’s shoulders.  
Kyle, still looking at the ground, tried to smile weakly, the ache so strong it left the taste of nickel in his mouth.  
Nothing changed, and after all these years the sting never left.  
\--  
These days, Kyle is older. Worn and tearing at the edges, the words spill out of the lines that have all but disappeared. These days, Kyle looks at Jimmy and can barely hold the words in, but he doesn’t have to- because Jimmy looks back, and all he sees is silent apology in his eyes.  
Kyle could never give him the sun, but by the time he comes face to face with unstopping blinding headlights, he’s given him so much that this is only one more light.  
He never saw it coming.

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by Andy Mientus and Jeremy Jordan singing 'If I Had You' because honestly? Andy is really good at acting like he's in love and it makes my heart hurt. gratuitous references to Anyway, Avenue Q, I'll Give You the Sun, and Bare. And the title is of course from Falsettos.
> 
> the-prim-reaper on tumblr but it sux so dont check it out


End file.
